One Night and One More Time
by Sushi Chi
Summary: It starts with buying a suit. Sterek AU


**Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf**  
**A/N: So this was beta'd by my friend hazelalpha (her tumblr name). And read through my Julia. I had fun writing it and I hope you all like it. And please ignore the horrible updates of 30 Days of Sterek and how I clearly am not updating that every day. I'm sorry. But please, enjoy this fic.**

"Look," Jackson said, forcing himself into Derek's apartment, "I get that you don't want to come to my party, but you're coming to my party."

Derek crossed his arms and tried to block Jackson's path before he got deeper into Derek's house. "No."

"You need to RSVP, Hale." Jackson ordered, "And as I'm standing right here-"

"After barging into my home." Derek commented.

"-you can just RSVP with me." Jackson paused for a second, "Oh, you plan to come? That's great. I'll tell the cooks."

"Damn it Jackson, I don't want to go to your stupid party." Derek growled out.

"You will come." Jackson glared, "I almost hit you with my porsche that one day. This is how I'm apologizing for that."

"By making me go to a party I don't want to go to?" Derek said slowly. "I don't think you know what an apology is."

"You used to come." Jackson pointed out, "Every year that you were invited."

"Laura made me." Derek defended himself.

Jackson nodded, "I always figured. But now Laura's dead. Killed by your uncle. Tragic, I assure you. But the fact remains that you belong at my party and you are coming."

"You don't even like me." Derek said.

"I don't like most of the people who are invited." Jackson pointed out.

"Then why do you invite them?" Derek asked.

"Because they're loaded. That's what the party is, or did you never catch that fact?" Jackson sneered, "It's a party for the people of Beacon Hills who are well-off. You and Laura qualified after your family died."

"I can't believe you have a party just for people who have an excess of money." Derek paused for a beat, "Wait, nope. I can believe it."

Jackson gave Derek a pointed look before turning around. When he was almost out the door, he yelled back, "I would give you a plus one, but we both know you won't be bringing a date."

.

"Stiles, honey," Lydia said, sitting comfortably on a chair that looked anything but, "just pick a sofa."

Stiles bounced on a white sectional, "But what if this isn't the one?"

"Then you buy another one?" Lydia shrugged, "You've got enough money that if you end up not liking that sectional, you can come and buy another."

"But that would be a waste of money." Stiles frowned, "And time and-"

Lydia rested her face in her hands and sighed deeply before looking back up at him, "Do you like that sofa?"

"Yes?" Stiles hesitated.

"Do you want it in white?" Lydia asked.

"No?" Stiles said slowly, "If I spill something on it-"

"You can get it cleaned. White is more classy. You'll go with the white one." Lydia nodded to herself.

"But Lydia-"

"I'll go get the paperwork set up, you come to the desk in two minutes and sign the pages okay?" Nodding primly, Lydia got up and left Stiles on the sofa.

Stiles got up and started pacing before turning to the sectional, "I'm sorry, I just don't know if you're the one." Dropping his head, he walked out of the store and waited for Lydia to come out and yell at him.

She did not disappoint.

When she was done, she took him by the arm and dragged him back to the car. Getting in the driver's seat she said, "I know that you aren't used to not having to worry about money-"

"Yeah, because growing up there was so much in the house as it was just me and dad who lived off the sheriff's salary." Stiles bit out sarcastically.

"-but you have managed to change that with that brilliant app of yours. So you need to change your perspective." Lydia suggested.

"And buy a random sofa that I may not even like?" Stiles said.

"Stiles, you need more in your house than rugs." She snapped.

"Isn't it good enough that I bought a large house?" Stiles asked weakly.

Lydia gave him a side-eye. After a second, her face was graced with a sweet smile, "You'll be coming to Jackson's party?"

"What? No." Stiles crossed his arms, "I hate the guy."

"And that should influence if you go or not?" Lydia asked.

"It's his party!" Stiles waved a hand dramatically.

"So?" Lydia rolled her eyes, "You didn't buy the sectional, please come the party instead. It may help you get into the mind set that you don't need to buy food only if you have a coupon for it."

"Fine." Stiles looked out the window and watched the houses pass by.

.

Derek looked in his mirror as he tried on the suit he had worn previously to Jackson's stupid parties. Sighing, he struggled to get the jacket off. He'd gone to the gym more, since Laura died, mostly as it was something mindless he could do and not have to think about how his uncle killed his sister before taking his own life. He'd been in nice shape before, but now he didn't fit into his only suit.

And Jackson might actually kill him if he either didn't show up to the party or didn't show up wearing a nice suit.

After he managed to get the suit off, he steeled himself for buying a new one. He always hated buying suits.

.

"Dude," Scott said, laying on Stiles' bed, "you need a suit."

"What?" Stiles asked, "Why? I made it this far in my life without one."

"Well, for starters," Scott started, "Jackson's party. But dude, you're rolling in it now. You'll need a suit for stuff like interviews and red carpet events and the Oscars."

"I'm not famous, Scott. I sold an app." Stiles rolled his eyes.

"Still stands. You need a suit. I have a suit." Scott said. "And I'm living off a vet's assistant salary."

"Plus your girlfriend who you live with who sells guns." Stiles said conversationally, "And gets lots of money from that."

"Well yeah. But she does it legally, it's cool." Scott shrugged.

"Her family owns a chain of pawn shops and she runs the arms section." Stiles stated blandly.

"That she does." Scott agreed. Clapping his hands he got up from the bed, "Suits. You need at least one."

"Okay fine." Stiles agreed. Scott had a good point - well, not the Oscars, but it would come in handy. "Let's go shopping for them."

Scott made an apologetic face, "Can't. Dinner with Allison." He put a hand on Stiles' shoulder, "You're on your own, dude."

.

Derek looked around the store, trying to dodge the salesman saying, "You'd just look dashing in this charcoal gray three piece with a red tie. Red to show that you are an alpha among men."

He leaned against the wall, glaring at all the suits in the store. It was a sea of blacks and dark greys and he didn't like it one bit. "Maybe I don't need the suit after all." Derek muttered to himself, "Other than this stupid party the only time I'd wear it is to a funeral and everyone I know is dead."

"Excuse me," A guy said, "Do you work here?"

Derek narrowed his eyes at the guy.

"I guess not. You don't really look like the part." The guy gave a lopsided smile, "I'm new to shopping for a suit. A friend told me to go here though. Otherwise I would have just went to the nearest Kohls or something and bought the first thing that fit."

"That's great." Derek muttered.

"Yeah. But like, are all the suits so dull? Not that I think you wouldn't look good in a nice gray suit. Like, charcoal gray." The guy said, nodding.

"What?" Derek glared at him.

"Well c'mon man. The black would be too dark with your features. It'd be sexy but like sexy for those dark and foreboding porn sites." The guy paused, "Red tie though, to liven the gray up. Yeah. I think that'd look really great on you."

"You're serious." Derek gaped.

"Yes?" The guy answered. "Sorry if I was overstepping-"

"No one sent you over here to say that?" Derek questioned.

"No? Why would anyone send me over here to say that. That seems weird." The guy rolled his eyes.

Derek sighed, "Over there." He pointed to a small corner of the store.

"What's over there?" The guy glanced to where Derek was pointed.

"Suits that aren't as dull." Derek answered.

"Oh? Yeah? Awesome." The guy grinned. "Thanks man. I'll see you later maybe?"

Derek shrugged and continued shopping, trying to stay away from the charcoal gray suits.

.

Stiles stepped out of the dressing room, running his fingers down the jacket of the suit. He looked at himself in the mirror and was pleased with how he looked.

"That really shows off your figure." The guy from earlier said dryly.

"Oh my God." Stiles flailed and turned around. "Hi. You think so? This color works for me?" He struck a model pose.

"It's white." The guy commented.

"Hey now, I have a mint green shirt. See?" He unbuttoned the jacket to show off more of the shirt.

The guy looked him up and down and swallowed visibly before answering, "I see."

"My friend will be so happy with the suit I picked." Stiles added.

"Is that right?" The guy raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, she wanted me to buy a white sectional sofa and so I thought the next best thing, since I chickened out from buying the sofa, is to buy a white suit. Right?" Stiles nodded to himself, "Right."

"Right." The guy shook his head.

Stiles glanced in his hands, "Oh! You're going to try on what I suggested? Charcoal gray? And is that a red tie I see peeking out?" He laughed as the guy shuffled nervously on his feet while trying to subtly move the tie out of sight. "Well go put it on I want to see you in it."

Stiles waited patiently as the guy went into the dressing room. He grinned to himself as he heard him muttering to himself as he changed.

Stiles looked good. Lydia was going to love him in the suit and be so proud of him. And Jackson could suck it. He'd probably be in a black and white with a bow tie and white scarf. What's cooler than a white scarf? A white suit, that's what. Oh yeah.

Upon hearing a throat being cleared, he looked back over to where the guy was and let out a whistle. "Man, that is one sexy look for you."

The guy tilted his head, "I look sexy in sweat pants."

"I don't doubt that." Stiles smirked. "But I want the point out that I was right with the red tie right?"

The guy shrugged, "At least you didn't try to make me match you with a mint green one."

Stiles barked out a laugh, "Oh, but buddy, at the time I didn't know I'd be wearing mint green. Otherwise I would have totally tried that."

The guy grinned at him, "Too late. Red won out."

"Mint green would soften the look though." Stiles added thoughtfully. "But the red totally works. It says dominance and power."

"Like an alpha among men?" The guy suggested.

Stiles snapped his fingers, "Totally. Totally dude."

An employee walked in and clapped his hands, "I do believe we found the suits for both of you." He gave what appeared to be a pointed look to the guy. "I'd be happy to ring you up when you're ready."

Stiles watched him walk away before making a comment of, "But you didn't help me pick my suit at all."

.

Derek walked down the hallway in the Whittemore's overly large house. He had to get away from all the people in the main room for just a little bit. If another shallow and upscale person told him again how sorry they were to hear about Laura when they only saw her during Jackson's yearly party he would likely punch them in their botoxed face.

True, a few of them weren't bad. Lydia and Laura had actually been friends and Isaac understood how it felt to be at the party just because you got your money from your family dying and you got all the inheritance and insurance. But most of the people in the room hadn't even shown up to Laura's funeral, they had no right to tell him how much they missed her.

Derek's inner monologue about how he really wished he was home in front of the television having a cheat day and eating pizza was interrupted when he saw a white suit out of the corner of his eye.

Taking a few steps backward, he found himself in the doorway of the library (seriously who actually owned a library in their house?) and saw the guy from the suit store pulling out books one at a time before putting them back.

"What are you doing?" Derek leaned against the doorway.

The guy jumped and turned, "Hey! It's you." He grinned widely, "Didn't think to see you here."

"Been here every year that I, quote, qualified, unquote." Derek muttered, taking some steps inside. "Never seen you here before."

"I've only recently been quote, qualified, unquote." The guy said before putting out his hand, "I'm Stiles."

"Derek." Derek shook his hand. "So how are you liking the party?"

"I'm alone in the library." Stiles answered, "You?"

"I was walking the hallways." Derek said dryly.

"Alone, in the dark, brooding no doubt." Stiles laughed when Derek narrowed his eyebrows at him, "I was right wasn't I?"

"I was mourning the fact that there is never any pizza served here." Derek shrugged.

"I feel you." Stiles nodded, "Hey, think we could order some pizzas in? I mean, Jackson may not like it, and kick us out. But that's just a win/win because no more party and pizzas."

"I like your thinking, Stiles." Derek agreed.

It didn't take long for them to decide to order only two pizzas, one for each of them. They weren't going to share with the other people at the party. After calling in their order, Stiles went back to pulling books out before putting them back.

"What are you doing?" Derek repeated himself from earlier.

"To be honest with you Derek," Stiles started, "this is the first time I've been able to be alone in this house. And I know that Jackson is the sort of douche who would have a hidden passageway."

Derek nodded, he could see that. Jackson did almost run him over with his porsche before forcing him to come to the party as an apology. "You're looking for a hidden passageway?"

"Of course." Stiles grabbed another book before sighing audibly.

"What are you doing to do if you find one?" Derek asked.

"Go down it," Stiles rolled his eyes, "duh."

"But it'll be all cobwebby and you're," Derek waved his hand at Stiles, "wearing white."

Stiles turned to face Derek, "I was once told that I could clean my white sofa if I spill something on it, so why can't I clean my white suit?"

"I thought you didn't buy the sofa?" Derek's brows furrowed.

"I didn't." Stiles nodded, "But I did buy the suit."

"Yeah, sure." Derek gave a nod and pulled at the nearest book. A hidden door did not open.

.

"Stiles!"

"Oh, Derek," Stiles turned to him, "I think our pizzas are here."

"Good." Derek replied, "I'm hungry."

Jackson appeared in the doorway, clearly in a rage, with two pizza boxes balanced on his hand like he had practice at delivering them as a pizza boy. Which he didn't, because he is Jackson Whittemore.

"Wow you're really good at balancing those. Are you sure you've never been a delivery boy?" Stiles asked.

"If he did, it was only as a part in a porno." Derek commented.

Stiles let out a loud laughter before walking over and taking the pizzas from Jackson. "Thanks for delivering them. Alas, you aren't getting in on a foursome."

"Foursome?" Derek raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah." Stiles held up a finger for each person he named off, "You, me, Jackson, the pizzas."

"Of course." Derek nodded seriously.

"You can leave now Jackson." Stiles sat the pizzas on a table. "Oh, wait, no." Stiles said, quickly looking back to Jackson, "How did you find me?"

"Stiles, you always told me and Lydia how you wanted to find all of my hidden passageways and then always reassured us that you didn't mean that in a sexual way." Jackson seethed.

Stiles frowned, "Right. That makes sense." He waved his hand at him in a dismissive gesture, "You may take your leave now."

Jackson turned around and walked away, "I hope you spill sauce on your white suit."

"It can be cleaned!" Stiles yelled back.

.

After they ate their pizza, they went back to trying to find the passageway. Until Stiles turned to Derek, "Do you think he has a dungeon?"

Derek shook his head, "Not the kind you're thinking of. I wouldn't put it past him to have a sex dungeon though." Lydia had to be scarier in bed than she was normally and he wouldn't past her to have fixed up the sex dungeon on her own.

"Hell yeah. I'm fairly certain he has one of those. Or his room has like a fold out sofa that has a sex dungeon built in because Lydia tells me things." Stiles let out a shiver.

"That is horrifying." Derek commented.

Stiles turned to him and pulled at his jacket, "You have no idea, Derek."

"And I don't want to know." Derek replied. For some reason he didn't mind too much that Stiles had grabbed his jacket and still hadn't let go. Reaching down he moved Stiles' hands to his, "Shall we have this dance?"

Stiles laughed, "Yeah, only if you're okay with me stepping on your toes."

"Steel toe boots." Derek shrugged, "In case I had to kick someone in the balls tonight."

"I commend your planning ahead." Stiles nodded.

Derek led, and he decided very quickly that it was a good thing too. Stiles couldn't dance at all. But he didn't mind. "You did good. No pizza sauce on your suit."

"My dad will have a proud papa moment." Stiles said. "He was sure I'd spill something on it."

"The night is young, Stiles." Derek said, dipping him, "You still have time."

"Long as it's not my blood, I'm good with it." Stiles said.

"What about my blood. Are you saying that would be okay?" Derek gave a mock frown.

"Depends. Is it your blood because I sacrificed you to the zombie mass while I made my getaway? I'm okay with that. Or is it your blood from some other reason that I can't think of right now? Not so okay." Stiles answered.

Derek understood about the zombie option. He would have to agree with Stiles in that he'd sacrifice his new acquaintance, and he hoped it wouldn't come to that.

"Stiles, Derek." Lydia's voice made them stop in their tracks. "Jackson said I could find you two up here." She walked in. "Stiles, you need to be downstairs making friends with the town's most powerful people."

"Lydia," Stiles' face scrunched up, "My dad's the sheriff. It's hard to be more powerful than that."

Derek found he didn't want to let go of Stiles so he turned his head to address Lydia instead of moving out of the formation for the waltz. "I take offense to that. I'm one of those powerful people."

"No you're not, Derek." Lydia sighed, "You live in a small apartment and write sad poems."

"Oh, you're a poet?" Stiles perked up, "That's awesome."

"It's not poetry." Derek glared.

Lydia tilted her head and gave him an unamused look, "It's poetry, Derek. And you have printed one and a half books of it and sold barely any. It's a good thing you're rich otherwise you wouldn't be able to afford anything."

Derek swore inwardly. Stiles didn't know how Derek had enough money to be invited to Jackson's stupid party. And as long as he thought he wrote books (or poems, whatever you wanted to call them) he would assume it was from that. But since Lydia let that out of the bag, he had to be prepared for Stiles to ask how he got the money.

"I want to read your not-poetry poems." Stiles said, surprising Derek.

"You do?" Derek stared at him.

"Yeah, of course, man." Stiles smiled at him.

"Oh my God." Lydia said, "Get a room."

"We had a room." Stiles rolled his eyes, "Then you came in. I was about to put my best moves on Derek."

Lydia made a gagging noise, "I've seen those moves. Please don't. Also you don't look as good in a white suit as you think you do."

Derek thought that was rude. Stiles looked amazing in his white suit, if you asked him.

.

After she left, Stiles stepped back from Derek's grasp. "We need to find a new room to hide in. They keep finding us in here."

Derek nodded as they left the library, leaving empty pizza boxes in their wake.

They soon found themselves in a sitting room. Stiles gave a nod and threw himself onto one of the sofas, lying down on it. "Why does one person need so many sofas?"

"It's a way to show off money." Derek said, sitting near Stiles' head, "'Look at all the cushions I own. I own so many. More than you.'"

"Imagine the cushion fort we could make." Stiles sighed. "It'd be magnificent."

Derek nodded silently. "You've had problems buying one right?"

Sticking his hand up in the air and spreading out his fingers, "What if it's not the sofa for me?"

"Is this one the one for you?" Derek peaked over Stiles' hand.

"No." Stiles shook his head. "It's really not."

"Maybe you need to buy one at a resale shop." Derek suggested, "You're sofa needs character."

Stiles frowned, thinking, "That doesn't sound half crazy."

"I do have good ideas sometimes." Derek pouted.

"I know, pork chop." Stiles patted Derek on the cheek.

"Did you just call me 'pork chop?'" Derek raised his eyebrows.

"It's a term of endearment." Stiles responded sagely.

Derek grabbed one of the pillows and threw it at Stiles' chest, "Let's build that fort, lamb chop."

"Aw, you care." Stiles said, sitting up and grabbing a cushion. He was enjoying the party a lot more than he expected. To be fair, it was all because of Derek, whom he'd met before the party. Then again he wouldn't have met Derek at the suit shop if he didn't have to be at the party. "Do we have to thank Jackson for the reason why we met?"

Derek looked up from where he was balancing some cushions together, "What? No. God don't thank him."

"I wouldn't have been in the store if I didn't have to come here." Stiles fake sobbed.

Shrugging, Derek agreed, "Same here. I don't need a suit. But I like to think we still would have met at some point."

"Yeah?" Stiles perked up, handing over a perfect pillow for the part of the for Derek was working on. He was glad to hear that Derek thought they'd still have met. It made it clear that Derek liked Stiles as much as Stiles liked him. He grinned.

"Of course." Derek sounded so sure of himself.

.

"Derek?" Isaac's voice was muffled from inside the fort. "Are you in the pile of cushions?"

Derek glanced at Stiles who was laying down beside him and giving Derek a blank face. Clearing his throat, Derek replied with a, "No."

He heard Isaac give a loud sigh, "Okay fine. Just letting you know that people are asking about you and your sister. They're thinking you've become more of a hermit than you are. I was sent to bring you down."

"Derek isn't here." Derek said, trying to ignore the impish grin on Stiles' face.

"I'll pass the message along." Isaac said before leaving and shutting the door behind him.

"He seems like a good friend." Stiles said, leaning on one arm, "Didn't expect to find many at the party."

"He's here against his will too." Derek explained.

"I'd say we should invite him to our party," Stiles started and Derek felt his heart fall, he liked having Stiles to himself, "but I think our little fort would be crowded."

Right. Of course that was why. The fort was too small for a third person and-

"Also I don't want to share you." Stiles finished.

"This is the best time I've had at one of these things." Derek said, "Normally my sister would drag me around for at least fifteen minutes per every five minutes I spent alone in the corner nursing a drink and stuffing my face with fruit."

"Where is she?" Stiles asked.

Derek looked at the ceiling of the fort, "Laura passed away earlier this year."

"I'm sorry." Stiles said quietly.

"Thank you." Derek said. Turning his head, he said, "She would have liked you."

"Yeah?" Stiles smiled.

"She liked anyone who got me to smile." Derek replied honestly.

Stiles petted the side of Derek's face, "Sad poetry."

Derek couldn't hold off a loud laugh, "Sad poetry." Derek agreed, "Which isn't poetry."

"Of course not." Stiles nodded. "You have a soft beard."

Derek's eyebrows shot up, "I've never been told that before."

"Well it's true." Stiles said. "I've been told I have soft lips."

Snorting, Derek tried not to laugh, "Smooth."

"They're that too." Stiles grinned.

He couldn't hold back his laugh, "I'll have to make sure they're as smooth and soft as I hear."

"I can't show you til you stop laughing." Stiles pouted.

Derek hid his face in his hands, laughing harder. "Do those lines work on all the boys?"

"Only if I first build a pillow fort with them, apparently." Stiles chuckled.

When Derek sobered up, he took a breath, "Shit. We're going to have to thank Jackson."

.

.

.

Jackson went into his office the next day and saw a paper on his desk. Bending down, he saw that it was in Stiles' handwriting and it had a little heart drawn on the top right corner.

'_Dear jerkface,_

_Derek and I have to thank you for the party, because without we may not have met and bonded over how we don't like you. So thanks for that._

_Stiles and Derek._

_PS we had sex on your des_k.'


End file.
